


Prisoner to Life

by mvsic_bxxks_stvdy



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Gen, this is the opposite of major character death ahahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 07:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14397282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvsic_bxxks_stvdy/pseuds/mvsic_bxxks_stvdy
Summary: Rewrite of Holland's fate from A Conjuring of Light.





	Prisoner to Life

**Author's Note:**

> written for anon on tumblr from the prompt:
> 
> [If you still want prompts, then maybe something with Kell and Holland: a fluffy pre-canon meeting in Grey London, or something more angsty post-canon in a reawakened White London?]
> 
> .....I went with angst.

_The place where magic died._ **  
**

That was what Holland had told Kell, when they had been preparing to cross into his world. The young  _Antari_ , his brow permanently creased with worry, irritation, fear. Whatever those who were free were allowed to show.

The place where he would die.

Holland let out a soft, puffing breath of laughter. Here, where no one could see it. It was a grim laugh, empty of humor. He would not die here, he was already dead. He had died a million times before, under Athos’ blade. Died alongside every person whose life he had been forced to take. Died at the hands of friends and enemies alike. Those who were both. At Kell’s hands. And in the dark palace, his magic torn away, like a limb from a body. Even that was not strong enough. It was like the removal of a vital organ, it left a hole in him. All those other deaths had failed to kill his body, but this, finally…

Holland heard a small noise behind him. He could not find the strength to move or even open his eyes, but he could not ignore the sound of approaching footsteps.

_Was he not even free to die?_

A voice, the words lost on him. He heard the cadence of Arnesian, and forced himself to open his eyes, though they felt frozen shut.

A blur of red before him, a glint of black. The voice was louder now, pitched with worry. He thought he heard his name. He tried to shake his head again, tried to let his eyes fall shut once more.  _Forget me. Please._

He was being shaken. The voice was clearer now. This damned body clung to life still, even when his mind had long since given up on it.

“Holland.” The voice said.

_Let me die._

“Holland.” It said again.

_I want to die._

A sudden pain across his cheek, sharp and stinging. Holland’s eyes opened, and he saw it was Kell who crouched with him. He forced his lips to work, his mouth to form the words.

“Leave me.”

Kell was staring at him, that crease between his brows more pronounced than ever. Or maybe they were just closer than they had been before. “I didn’t know you intended to…”

Holland felt his eyes slipping shut again. Kell gave him another sturdy shake, repeating his name. Was that fear in his voice? It almost made Holland want to laugh. How many in this world, in all of the worlds, wanted him dead? Countless.

His voice sounded strange as he spoke again. It was like a stone, eroded by a river, smooth and insubstantial. “What did you think I intended to do.”

“Go home.” Kell said, his own voice small. Numb.

Even after everything that had happened, Kell was still so naive. Holland’s eyes fluttered open again, he found Kell checking his pulse. “…I made it clear, why I was returning. Will you not let me have my death?”

“No.” Kell said.

Underneath the numbness that weighed him down, Holland felt a spark of anger. “You had left. You were going to. What changed?” His anger was not at Kell for nearly abandoning him. He wanted to die, he thought he would be allowed to, but Kell had returned.

Kell’s mismatched eyes sparked with their own anger. “I won’t let another friend die.”

Holland shook his head, wishing he had the strength to pull away, even as Kell tried to pull him up. “You and I are not friends.”

Kell’s arm was warm around him, supporting him even as Holland wanted so desperately to sink to the cold forest floor. The young  _Antari_  did not respond, instead dragging his cut hand down the trunk of a tree roughly, reopening the cut. Fresh blood smeared down the icy bark.

Holland tried to resist. “Kell.” He said, his voice a low growl. “I don’t want to return. Leave me here.”

Still, Kell was silent.

If Holland had had any strength left, he would have pulled away. But he did not. All he could do was close his eyes and accept as he became, once again, a prisoner to life.


End file.
